


Christmas 1995

by nightswatch



Series: A Series of Christmases [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus returns to Grimmauld Place for Christmas and finds that there is yet another, rather unexpected undercover mission that he needs to go on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas 1995

**Author's Note:**

> For all the lovely people who asked for a post-Azkaban Christmas. 
> 
> This is probably not 100% canon compliant.

Remus slips into Grimmauld Place Number 12 as quietly as he can, and not only because it’s the middle of the night. Waking up Walburga Black’s portrait is not something he wants to be responsible for no matter what time of day it is. She has quite the temper and Remus doesn’t like the look on Sirius’ face whenever his mother’s portrait starts shouting insults at them all.

At least that’s one of those things he can do something about. Because Remus also doesn’t like the look on Sirius’ face every time he walks out the door, but there’s nothing at all he can do about that. He comes and goes a lot these days and Remus isn’t quite sure if Sirius is angry because he can’t also come and go as he pleases or because he doesn’t like being left in the house all by himself. Most likely it’s both, mixed with a multitude of other reasons that Remus can’t even begin to understand.

It’s quiet in the house, but Remus checks the kitchen anyway. When he finds it empty, he tiptoes past Walburga’s portrait and sneaks up the stairs, smiling, for the first time, at the house elf heads, now decorated for Christmas. Remus has a feeling that it’s probably Sirius’ doing and he has to admit that he’s a little sad that he wasn’t around to witness Sirius dashing about the house, decorating his ancestor’s dead house elf collection in the most ridiculous way possible.

Remus slowly makes his way up another flight of stairs, trying his hardest not to wake anyone up. The house is quiet and the creak of the top step seems impossibly loud. His room is just down the hall from Sirius’ – both of them set up as guest rooms. Remus hasn’t asked Sirius why he won’t sleep in his own room and he doesn’t really have to.

He drops his battered suitcase and his coat in his own room, then he sneaks down the hall to Sirius’. He knocks, but there’s no answer. Chances are that Sirius is with Buckbeak, or is hiding somewhere else in the house, or just doesn’t feel like talking.

Whatever it is, Remus has to accept it. Of course he could go snooping around the house, but it’s late and he has no idea what mood he might end up finding Sirius in and he’d really rather sleep than get into a fight about something completely ridiculous, as it happens so often these days.

Remus goes back to his own room, takes a shower in the adjacent bathroom that definitely wasn’t there when the house was still owned by Muggles, and when he steps back into the room, now feeling chilly, he finds Sirius sitting in the armchair by the window, wearing pyjama bottoms and a faded shirt. Remus isn’t sure if Sirius pulled it out of a closet upstairs or if he’s just imagining that he’s seen him wear it before, possibly when they were in seventh year, for a trip to Hogsmeade maybe or when he shoved him into a secret passageway to have his merry way with him.

“Hello,” Remus says, hating that he sounds surprised. He’s glad that he put on his pyjamas and didn’t walk out of the bathroom buck-naked. He hates that false sense of modesty. Sirius knows him, has seen all those things that Remus has always so desperately tried to hide from the world.

“Thought it was you,” Sirius says, an easy smiles spreading across his face. Remus has missed that smile. “Just wanted to…” Sirius shrugs and slowly gets up. “Good to have you back.”

“I got your letter this morning,” Remus says. It’s a rather feeble attempt at starting a conversation, but he’s sure that Sirius sent that letter a couple of days ago and he doesn’t want him to think that he’s been ignoring him for days.

“You didn’t have to come back.”

“There wasn’t anything left for me to do anyway. And I thought it would be nice to be here for Christmas.”

“Yeah, well…” Sirius trails off, shaking his head. “I guess you’re knackered.”

“What?” Remus asks, because Sirius has that gloomy look on his face again and, quite frankly, Remus can’t stand it. He sits down on the edge of his bed, eyes still on Sirius.

“It can wait.”

“Are you sure?”

Sirius nods. “Go to sleep.” He pads over to the door, hovering there for a moment, casting a sidelong glance at Remus.

“Sirius,” Remus says, because they both know that Sirius doesn’t really want to leave. “Stay for a couple of minutes? Tell me what’s happened.”

“Did you actually read the letter I sent you?”

“Fine, then don’t,” Remus says irritably. He’s trying, but if Sirius doesn’t feel like cooperating, there’s nothing he can do anyway. He rubs his eyes and sticks his bare feet under the covers.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Don’t be like that,” he says and comes to sit on the bed with him. “They’re probably going to visit Arthur tomorrow. You could go with them.” He smirks. “Do you think anyone would notice if you brought your dog?”

“I don’t think they want dogs at the hospital,” Remus says quietly. He knows how desperately Sirius wants to get out of this house, but they need to be careful and Remus would rather have a grumpy Sirius locked up in here than Sirius locked up in Azkaban.

Sirius shoots him a reproachful look, but Remus doesn’t budge. For once, he agrees with Dumbledore. Sirius is safer if he stays here.

“I know you want to get out of here,” Remus mutters. “I’m sorry, Sirius, but there’s nothing we can do for now.”

Sirius grumbles something under his breath.

“It’s nice to have Harry here for Christmas, though, isn’t it?” Remus says. “Obviously the circumstances aren’t ideal…”

“Well…” Sirius laughs. “Not exactly ideal, no.” He brushes a strand of hair out of his face with a sigh. “It was really quiet before they got here. Kreacher’s muttering wasn’t that entertaining either.”

“Didn’t anyone come by?”

“Kingsley came by once. Dropped something off, but he didn’t stick around for too long.”

Remus hums. He tries to take care of the missions that Dumbledore sends him on as quickly as he can, hoping he’ll have more time to spend with Sirius, but there’s always another mission, and another one, and he hardly spends any time at the house anymore. He knows that what he does is important, he knows that Dumbledore needs all of them to help out, but he hates that Sirius has to stay behind. Probably almost as much as Sirius does.

Sirius picks at the embroidered duvet cover, nose scrunched up.

“I might be able to stay for a week or two,” Remus says. “Until Harry goes back to Hogwarts, at least.”

“Because Dumbledore wants you to?”

“Yes,” Remus says. He also received a letter from Dumbledore this morning. “Although I would have made an effort to stay here for a while even if it wasn’t for our unexpected visitors.”

Sirius only shrugs, like it doesn’t matter.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks. He knows the answer. A lot of things are wrong. But Sirius has always loved Christmas and Remus thought that he might be a little more cheerful now that he doesn’t have to spend the holidays on his own.

“Nothing,” Sirius says. He looks away from Remus and stares at the window. Snow has started to fall.

Pulling the bedsheets up to his chest as best as he can with Sirius still sitting on the bed, Remus watches him and waits.

“I couldn’t even get you a present,” Sirius grumbles eventually. “And you had to get Harry’s present. I’m bloody useless.”

“Well, I didn’t get you anything exciting either,” Remus says. “It doesn’t–”

“That’s not the point,” Sirius interrupts. “You got me _something_. Because you can actually leave this house.”

Remus knows that there’s nothing he can say that will make Sirius feel better about any of this. He’s not sure if he should try anyway. Sirius is still staring out the window, goosebumps on his arms, looking sulky. This probably isn’t the best time to ask Sirius if he actually has any clothes for winter or if Remus should get him some. “Do you want to borrow a jumper?” he asks instead.

“Do I look like I want to borrow a jumper?”

“You look _cold_ ,” Remus says, lips twitching.

“Well, it is cold in here,” Sirius says gruffly. “If I’d known you were coming, I could have…” He nods at the fireplace that probably hasn’t been used in decades.

“I’m fine,” Remus says.

Sirius pulls his legs up against his chest. “Well, so am I.”

Biting his lip, Remus pulls at the sheets. It’s hard to figure out what Sirius wants, especially when he insists on being stubborn. And right now Remus is too tired to try, so he just goes with what _he_ wants. Curl up in bed with Sirius next to him.

When they first moved into Grimmauld Place this summer, Sirius kept sneaking about the house at night until Remus eventually pulled him into his room and told him to go to sleep. Remus sat in the armchair, watching him toss and turn for half the night until he eventually joined him in bed, keeping his distance and waking up nose to nose with Sirius anyway.

Sirius kept coming to him at night from then on. Not every night, just every now and again. And then Remus had to leave for Order missions and he still isn’t sure how Sirius spends his nights – or his days – when Remus isn’t around.

One time, in early September, Remus came back to find Padfoot sleeping on the bed in Sirius’ room. Another time he just slipped into bed with Sirius after he got home. It felt right at that moment, the next morning Remus wasn’t so sure what he’d been thinking.

When he arrived to spend the full moon at Grimmauld Place in November, the Wolfsbane potion sitting on his nightstand, Remus was just about to lock the door when Sirius slipped into the room.

“Want some company?” he asked.

Remus only nodded, drank the last of his potion and waited for the transformation with Padfoot sitting next to him, gently nudging him with his nose right before it started. The wolf curled up next to Padfoot, who sniffled and snuffled at him, quite obviously not expecting the wolf to be so peaceful.

The next morning, Sirius wrapped a blanket around him, like he used to when they still spent their full moons in the Shrieking Shack. Then, without much of a warning, Sirius kissed him.

It wasn’t the only kiss they shared since then either. It’s more that they’re trying to offer comfort of some kind, to have at least one thing that isn’t terrible in this ghastly house, than anything else. It feels _familiar_. Remus tells himself that what he used to feel for Sirius doesn’t matter anymore, but with every new kiss they share, he realises that he’s so, so wrong about that.

Sirius slips under the covers without another word, looks at him for a moment, then he scoots closer and rests his head on Remus’ shoulder. “It’s good to have you back for Christmas. And in general.”

Remus hums and puts an arm around Sirius, trying not to smile at how quickly he burrows against him. “How’s Harry?”

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Sirius mumbles into Remus’ pyjamas. “But he’s confused. And angry. Which is understandable. Dumbledore isn’t helpful, exactly.”

“Sirius,” Remus says, slowly running his fingers through his hair, “Dumbledore is doing what he can.”

“You sure about that?”

Remus sighs. He has no reason to lie to Sirius. “No. Well, yes, although I’m sure that there’s a lot he isn’t telling us. Which is within his rights, of course.”

“Just does whatever he wants and expects us to play along, the old bugger. _You can’t leave the house, Sirius, it’s too dangerous outside, you might put the whole Order in danger, Sirius, you must be reasonable, Sirius, don’t be so–_ ”

“Sirius,” Remus says, his fingers tightening in Sirius’ hair, just a little. “It’s not Dumbledore’s fault that the Ministry wants you back in Azkaban. He’s right, you are safer here.”

“But I’m also _incredibly_ bored here,” Sirius says gruffly. “I’m wasting away between those ugly draperies, Remus, I am, they’re out to get me. Everything in this house hates me with a burning passion and the feeling is mutual.”

Remus has lost count of how many times they’ve had this conversation. He feels like they just keep going round and round in circles. Sirius will be grumpy no matter what Remus says or does. Well. “Fine,” Remus says.

“What?”

“I said _fine_ ,” Remus says and clambers out of bed.

“What are you doing?”

Remus doesn’t reply, only pulls on his coat and wraps his scarf around his neck. He’s had enough of this, just like Sirius has had enough of this.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a walk,” Remus says.

Sirius looks at him like he’s lost it and maybe he has. “In your pyjamas?”

“Yes,” Remus says. It’s the middle of the night, no one will be outside. He grabs his boots. “Are you coming?”

Sirius’ eyes go wide. “ _Moony_.” He smirks and scrambles out of bed to give Remus an enthusiastic kiss. Somehow, it feels different than all the others. It feels a lot like the ones _before_. Before everything went to shit. Before James and Lily died, before the end of the war, before they left Hogwarts even.

“We’re not going far,” Remus says.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sirius says, his smile so broad that Remus, for a moment, is sure that he won’t regret this for a second.

He knows that this could go horribly wrong. If Dumbledore finds out about this, they’re done for. If anyone sees them, they’ll be in real trouble. But Remus has walked around Grimmauld Place many times and there are only Muggles around here. No one will pay him any mind, wandering down the street with a dog.

“And just for a couple of minutes,” Remus says lowly. “And we have to be careful. And _quiet_.”

“I’m good at being quiet,” Sirius says, his smirk turning devilish.

“You really aren’t,” Remus says and pushes him toward the door. “But I do admit you’re good at being sneaky.”

“Yes, very sneaky, we are.” Sirius takes him by the hand and pulls him downstairs, their footsteps not as quiet as they should be on the stairs. They make their way past that horrible portrait and Sirius is still smirking.

Remus hasn’t seen him look this happy in weeks, months even, so he doesn’t waste any time on second thoughts. “Ready?”

Sirius nods and turns into Padfoot, looking up at Remus excitedly, tail wagging.

“Just for a moment,” Remus reminds him before he opens the door. He looks around to make sure that they are really alone. “All right, let’s go.”

Padfoot sniffs at the cold night air before he steps outside and runs down the steps in front of the house, waiting for Remus at the bottom. He was right, everyone’s already gone to bed, the lights are off in all the neighbouring houses, no one’s around. Remus’ fingers are still curled around his wand as he follows Sirius down the pavement.

The snow is still falling, but it melts as soon as it hits the ground. It doesn’t really dampen Padfoot’s excitement, though. There’s a handful of shops down the street, a closed café, and some fast food restaurant. The lights are out, but Padfoot peers inside anyway, tail wagging. Remus doesn’t really have the heart to tell him that they need to go back, but they do, so he slows his steps. Padfoot doesn’t notice at first, but turns around when he does, staring at Remus.

He’s not quite sure how Sirius manages to look so sad, even as a dog. “I’m sorry,” Remus says.

Padfoot comes walking back over to him and nudges his hand with his nose.

“We can walk back _slowly_ ,” Remus mutters and scratches Padfoot behind the ears.

It’s quiet and peaceful. It actually _feels_ like Christmas this year.

They make it back to the door eventually and Remus sits down on the steps, looking around one more time, just to make sure that it’s still just the two of them out here. He’s firmly holding on to his wand, but it doesn’t look like he’ll need it.

“Come up here,” Remus says and pats the cold stone steps.

Padfoot does, soft and warm beside him. Remus runs his fingers through his fur and gives Sirius, and himself, another minute.

It’s strange to sit on the front steps on a house that doesn’t even exist to the outside world. The Muggles around here don’t even know that Grimmauld Place Number 12 exists. It’s like they’re sitting in a bubble. No wonder Sirius feels trapped in that house. Remus frowns. Sits up straight.

Padfoot whines lowly.

“These steps are part of the house,” Remus says. “They’re part of the house. And no one can see the house, right?” He glances around again. “Sirius, no one can see us here.”

Padfoot perks up at that.

“You could…” Remus shakes his head, wondering how he’s never thought of this before. How Sirius has never thought of this before. “You could just sit out here.”

“Sitting out here is like sitting next to an open window,” Sirius grumbles, carefully tugging his fingers through his tangled hair. He’s still just wearing that old, faded shirt and his pyjama bottoms. Remus almost wants to give him his coat, but they shouldn’t stay out here much longer in any case.

“Anyway,” Remus mumbles, “I don’t think Dumbledore would want you out here even if no one can see you.”

“Oh yes, he’d hate this.” Sirius’ expression takes on something gleeful. “Look at you, all rebellious, coaxing me out of hiding, making me defy Dumbledore’s orders.”

Remus snorts. “Time to go back inside,” he says and gets up, waiting a moment for Sirius to follow.

They slip back into the house and the door has barely clicked shut when Sirius’ arms are around him and he gives him a breathless kiss. It’s a bad idea, doing this down here, but Remus chooses, just for a couple of seconds, to ignore his nagging brain and kisses Sirius back before he pulls away and leads him down to the kitchen.

“Tea or hot chocolate?” Remus asks.

“Firewhiskey,” Sirius says.

“Tea, then,” Remus mutters and gets two cups, heating up the water with a tip of his wand. “Let’s take it upstairs.” He’s sure that Kreacher is lurking somewhere down here and he’d rather not have him listen in on their conversations.

Sirius doesn’t seem to have any objections and makes his way up the stairs, Remus following at his heels. The top step creaks and Sirius laughs, quietly, before he quickly darts into Remus’ room, closing the door once Remus is inside with their tea.

“See, still as sneaky as ever.”

Remus smiles and puts the tea down on his nightstand.

“We should do this every day,” Sirius says and quickly slips under the covers, pulling them up to his chin. “You could say it’s our duty as Marauders.”

“Sirius…” Remus pulls off his boots and they fall to the floor with a thunk. “We can’t. Not every day.”

Sirius wiggles his eyebrows at him. “But maybe we can do it again?”

“I’m not making any promises,” Remus says. He hangs up his coat, still damp from the snow, and then glances out the window. Grimmauld Place is still deserted and quiet, just like it was before. Remus takes a deep breath.

“But you’re not saying no,” Sirius says.

“Well…” Remus draws the curtains.

Sirius winks at him.

“I didn’t say yes either.”

“But you didn’t say _no_ ,” Sirius says. His smile is smug. “Anyway, you always gave us that _look_ , you know, that judging one, when we snuck out of the Tower and in the end you came with us every single time.”

Remus purses his lips, although he knows that Sirius is right. “Well, the three of you would have got into trouble without me.”

“ _Right_ ,” Sirius says dryly. He wiggles around under the bedsheets. “Why are you still standing over there?”

“I just…” He nods at the window. Making sure that no one was coming for Sirius. It sounds silly. Their little walk obviously had no repercussions whatsoever and as long as Dumbledore doesn’t find out about this, they should be fine. Dumbledore will find out eventually, Remus is sure. He’ll probably take one look at them and he’ll know. Remus decides not to worry about it until then.

He slowly wanders back over to the bed and flops down with a sigh. His exhaustion is catching up with him now, so he closes his eyes for a moment, smiling when Sirius’ fingers brush through his hair. Then the sheets are pried out from under him and are wrapped around him.

“Remus,” Sirius says, nuzzling into Remus’ hair.

“Hm?”

“We made tea.”

Remus only grunts in reply. That tea is going to get cold and maybe he’ll heat it up again tomorrow morning, but right now he’s too tired to even reach for his cup.

“Remus,” Sirius says again.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“You won’t be thanking me when Dumbledore finds out,” Remus mutters and turns over, burying his face in Sirius’ shirt.

Sirius laughs and it makes the bed shake. He puts an arm around Remus, pulling him closer. “Mind if I stay?”

“Turn off the lights.”

He can feel Sirius turn away to fumble for his wand. The lights go off a moment later. “I sleep better when you’re here,” Sirius whispers into the silence.

“I know,” Remus says. “So do I.”

Sirius’ fingers start running through his hair again. In the darkness it’s impossible for Remus to keep his memories from blurring together. He’s tried not to think about falling asleep next to Sirius, has forced his thoughts to stay far, far away from Sirius in general before he broke out of Azkaban. But now, well, things are different now. He can allow himself to think about all the times they’ve fallen asleep like this, curled around each other, comfortably warm despite the snow falling outside.

Before Sirius started slipping into bed with him, Remus barely remembered what it was like to have someone sleeping next to him, kicking him in the shin before snuggling closer, hogging the covers, mumbling when Remus tries to steal them back, but he got used to it again quickly. It’s a bit embarrassing, actually.

“I…” Remus yawns. “I always want you to stay.” Well, that doesn’t really make things less embarrassing.

Sirius, thankfully, doesn’t comment. He just hums and hugs him a little tighter. “Remus,” he says. There’s a pause and Remus starts to wonder if he’s changed his mind about saying anything halfway, then he mumbles, “Do you ever regret it?”

Remus isn’t quite awake enough to figure out what this is about, exactly, so his brain jumps to the thing he’s most likely to regret in the near future. “Taking you outside?” he asks. “Not so much at the moment. Tomorrow, probably.”

“No, I mean… that we were always so sneaky.”

“I thought you always rather enjoyed calling yourself the Master of Stealth.” Remus squirms away from Sirius, just enough so he can tilt his head and kiss Sirius’ jaw. “I distinctly remember you wanting to charm our map so it’d say exactly that instead of your real name until the end of time.”

Sirius snorts. “Well, I still am the Master of Stealth, as we’ve proven earlier. But…” His hand slowly wanders down Remus’ spine. “I meant, do you regret that we never told anyone. About us.”

“Oh,” Remus says.

“Yeah.” Sirius’ hand stills on the small of his back. “I know the time just wasn’t right. I mean, we were in the middle of fighting a war. But still. We always wanted to tell them, didn’t we?”

“Of course,” Remus says. There were other reasons. They didn’t know what their friends would say, how people would react if they told them, but it’s true, the time was never right. “But yes,” he adds quietly.

“Yes?”

“I wish we’d told them. Our friends, at least. It was strange, after you were…” Remus bites his lip, swallows down the words he can’t say. “It was strange.”

Sirius is silent for a moment, then he says, “Are you ever going to tell me what you were up to while I was stuck in Azkaban? I still think that it’s a little unfair that you know everything about what I did for the last fourteen years and you won’t tell me what you were doing.”

Truth be told, Remus was a bit of a mess after the end of the war. And he doesn’t really want to tell Sirius about how much of a mess he was. He got it together eventually, devoted a lot of time to his studies, tried to find a job here and there, wherever he could find one, really. There isn’t much to tell. He lived like he was in hiding. And maybe he was, in a way. “You’d find it boring, I’m sure.”

“Tell me anyway,” Sirius says.

“Tomorrow?”

Sirius drapes himself all over Remus. “Yes, tomorrow.” He kisses Remus’ forehead. His leg hooks around his. “Sleep in tomorrow, yeah?”

“It’s Christmas,” Remus mutters, “we can’t sleep in.”

“ _You_ can sleep in. I can get up early and help Molly with breakfast. She loves it when I help her out, as you know,” Sirius says.

Remus laughs. “Yes, I’m sure she’ll be delighted.”

“See, so you can sleep in. Get some rest.” Sirius kisses him again. “Good night, Moony.”

“Good night, Pads.” For a moment the words _I love you_ sit on the tip of his tongue. Remus sighs and closes his eyes.

Not the right time. Maybe tomorrow.


End file.
